As for the relationship between my father and my uncle; 

I have mentioned before that the feelings between them got more and more aggravated and that as I grew up, the times that hey spoke at all seemed to be far and few between. As I child I did not know why, but after that fateful night when first I heard that intense argument things became clearer, and soon I began to unravel the mystery behind a brothers´ fall from grace and a family estranged.
From that one night at my 10th birthday until I left home for my high school studies in a small town som 200 kilometers away I did not hear much from my Uncle exept from my fathers´ mutterings about "unhealthy interests" and "waste of time and money" - litte of which I understood at the time - but that was soon to change.

I was just back to my apartement - my first one - when I saw the big, padded envelope that the mailman had tried in vain to shove through through the slot in the dore before giving up and leaving it jammed. A moments of irritation soon changed into curiosity when I saw the name and adress of the sender; my uncle had written to me, and not only that, but from Egypt, and from the look of the package there was more than just letters in it.
Anticipation gripped me, and I could not get indoors fast enough before I ripped up the envelope and with the sound of paper tearing a scent that to this day stays with me and reminds me of those first days spread through my small flat; old parchment, sun-bleached bones and as always a lingering note of the wretched cigars I´ve never seen him without either in pictures or in person.

I sat down in the kitchen with the stack of papers and something small and heavy covered in bubblewrap.

At first glance it looked like nothing more than a piece of rock, and while I knew my uncle to be excentric I did not think him  the type to send random gravel to someone he had not med in more that 5 years. There simply -had- to be some meaning behind it. Carefully unwrapping the covering, the shape became visible, and yet another strange scent wafted into my home, this time a hint of rain, salt and sage-bush... the ocean?

Why would a small, star-shaped stone sent from the scorched deserts of Egypt smell of the ocean in autumn?  Looking closer, the star-shaped little stone had a carving on its surface - at first hard to discern, after a careful rinse it turned out so be something like another star not unlike the shape of the stone itself, with what could be either a flame, an eye or perhaps just a crack running through the center of it.

If it was a hieroglyph stolen from the walls of the Necropolis, then it was one I had never seen before. Granted, I´m certainly no expert in matters Egyptian, but as any other young boy I went through a persiod of intense fascination with pyramids and mummies, and I knew for a fact that I had not once seen the symbol on this stone before. Indeed it did not even resemble the signs from the pharaonic tombs my books showed me, which did nothing to still my cursed curiosity... and I do not doubt that my Uncle had that part figured out whenhe sent it to me. Putting the strange stone away for the moment, I reached for the letter. Written in a small cramped hand it took me some time to read, but what it said opened my eyes to a whole new reality:

Dear nephew.
I hope you do not mind the `dear´ - although we have not met many times or spoken many words to each other, the simple fact that you are of the very same bloodline as myself and your father makes you dear to me indeed. Your father may have turned away from our legacy and tried to keep the knowledge therein from you, but I know that your have heard something of our arguments, and while those small peices of the puzzel have not yet given you a complete picture, you -are- on your way to something great, and though it will surely cause my brother to damn me forever for endangering his only son, the same blood that binds us all together also compels me to share the truths with the only worthy heir; you.
And so it to you I shall bequeath what I have uncovered during a life dedicated to finding the lost, unseen and forgotten things hiding in the outskirts of what we call reality; old gods, ancient beings of unfathomable origin dwelling beyond our universe, beyond our ability to even begin to understand.
Vast, powerful and very, very alien.

I can almost see your face as you read this.
You hesitate, you doubt that this is anything but insanity or the ranblings of a senile old man, but I also know that there burns a fire deep inside your mind, a fire that no amount of rationality can ever quench. I know, for it burns in me as well, and has so done since I was around the age you are now. The spark that awoke in me then has guided me throughout all of my life, guided me to a kings ransom in treasures as well as to the realm of unimaginable nightmares... and I would not change it for anything. Curiosity has been my driving forde, and the knowledge it has brought me to is far greater than all I have sacrificed.

Sacrificed?
Yes, I knew that word would catch your eyes, but do not worry about such trivialities at this moment; all things in due time, this I promise you.

I must soon leave the hotel room in whick I currently stay and board the last train to Abydos. I have recently learned that the Black Pharao was once worshipped in that place before the temple now in ruins was buildt, and I can ill afford to let this train grow cold once more. Thus my time for letter-writing draws to an end for this time, but I will writ you again as soon as I am able. In the time, discover what you can about the stone carving I have sent to you. It is a gift for you, and an item of great power should you discover how to use it. I cannot simply tell you, for it is a power that must be awakened anew for each user, but it -will-protect you as your flame of curiosity starts leadning you further on the path of knowledge.
Treasure it, know it and most of all; keep it always close to you.

From under the warm sun of Africa,
Your Uncle.